A Far Cry From The Truth
by PolytheneSkin
Summary: What do you do when the person you love doesn't even notice you?  What about when they hate you?  What do you do when you find out the person you love doesn't really hate you at all?  What if, just maybe, they love you too? Zemyx


It's hard to be in love with someone who doesn't know you exist.

It's even harder when you're in love with a person who does know you exist, and chooses to ignore you.

That's not true at all, Zexion noted. He acknowledges me frequently. He says hello when we pass in the hall. He'll wave at me when he enters the room. He'll more than willingly pass the salt at dinner if I ask him. But he does that for _everyone_.

He passes out his smile like its candy in a bowl on a receptionist's desk. He'll cheerfully greet whomever he passes. He waves to everyone in the room when he enters, not just me. And he passes salt to whoever the hell asks him for it! And that was the problem! No, not the salt thing specifically, that didn't…whatever, that's not the point! The point was that he wasn't seen any differently than anyone else. To _him_, Zexion was just another Organization member, a coworker, another face in the crowd. He was no more special than anyone else was. And that was what hurt so much; that the person he cared for so deeply didn't seem to care much at all.

Zexion needed to calm down. Every time he thought about the other Organization member, it was like this; first the sadness and self pity about his unrequited love, then the anger from the lack of acknowledgment. But who was he really angry at? Easy, he thought. I'm angry at myself, for not being more forthcoming with my affections. If I would just _tell_ _him_…

But no. That would be a bad idea. Zexion was nothing if not logical. And the logical part of himself constantly reminded him that he was cold and calculating. And his cold and calculating nature made him anti-social. His anti-social nature meant he had few close friends. And because he had few close friends, he was seen as no more than an acquaintance by the one he cared about more than anything in the universe. Which meant it would seem a little odd to be suddenly confessing his love to him.

But _God_ how he wanted to. Every time the damn boy came into a room he wanted to throw his book on the floor (he knew he would be carrying a book, because when was the Cloaked Schemer without a piece of literature?) march right up to him, grab the front of his cloak with both hands, look him strait in the eye and say the one thing he had been thinking since the Organization had gained its ninth member:

"Demyx, I'm in love with you."

Man, did that sound desperate or what?

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It's hard to be in love with someone who hates you.

And Demyx knew that Zexion hated him. Whenever he would pass him in the hall and say hi, Zexion just got this look on his face and kept walking. Whenever he came into a room and waved to everyone, they would all reply with a chorus of 'hey' or 'what's up?' But never Zexion. He would just sit there and read his book, never looking up, never acknowledging Demyx's entrance, never saying anything, not even a "Shut it, can't you see I'm trying to _read._" In fact the only time that Zexion had ever outright spoken to Demyx was when they were all sitting at the table eating and Zexion would ask him to pass something that he couldn't reach himself.

It was infuriating, to say the least. Demyx was trying to be civil, damn it. The least the man could do was return the favor. But no, Zexion just had to sit there, reading his stupid books, never paying any attention to Demyx, always with a bored, disinterested look on his face, flipping pages, being perfectly quiet, perfectly disinterested, perfectly beautiful, with those sad looking eyes and that soft skin that Demyx didn't know if it was actually soft or not cause he never got to touch it and that beautiful hair that he wanted to run through his fingers and those lips that Demyx was just dying to kiss because he knew they would be soft and he knew they would make the most beautiful sounds if he…

No, stop it. Stop stop stop. Bad creative and imaginative brain. Just quit it.

That was the point that he usually stopped his fantasies at, reminding himself that, oh yeah, Zexion hated him. No touching, no kissing, no running your fingers through his hair. Cause he hates you. Totally and completely hates you.

So he didn't try anything. He kept his hands to himself. He didn't try to talk to him. Didn't go out of his way to get to know him, or chit-chat, or push him up against a wall and ravish him. Because Zexion made it perfectly clear he wanted no parts of Demyx.

Demyx would be sitting, playing his sitar or day dreaming during a meeting, and his mind would slip to Zexion, as it usually did. And then he would get angry at himself for all the nonsense he was putting himself through. 'You know what?' he would think, 'I don't need Zexion. If he hates me, it's his loss. I can find someone else. Someone who likes me, and wants to touch me, and kiss me, and run their fingers through _my_ hair! And we'll be happy together, and I'll forget all about Zexion. So take that! I don't need you! I can find someone better! Fuck you Zexion!'

'Oh, if only,' his mind replied.

'Yeah, if only I could find someone else.'

'No,' his mind said, 'I meant the fucking Zexion part.'

'Shut up mind, I knew that, I was trying to ignore you. This is why I try not to use you too much.'

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Soooo…how'd your mission go?"

Zexion looked up from his book to the boy sitting on the chair to his right. Demyx was there, staring at him expectantly. He had tried to ignore the young man's entrance, since Demyx had probably thought no more of Zexion's presence than he did a fly's. But he couldn't help it when his eyes would dart up from his book to spy on Number IX. The way his eyes, focused on his hand of cards for the game he was playing with Luxord, were so intensely blue. How he put his whole body, his whole self, into every little motion, like he was trying to contain the dancing water that was inside him, but he couldn't help but let a little bit out with each movement. But then their game was over, and Luxord had left to go eat, and Zexion and Demyx were left alone. And now Demyx was...talking?

"Are you speaking to me?" Zexion asked, taken aback.

"Uhhh, yeah…" Demyx's reply sounded more like a question than a statement.

Thinking back, Zexion had asked the most pointedly stupid question possible. There was no one else in the room besides the Melodious Nocturne and himself. Who else would Demyx have been conversing with, the couch? Zexion cleared his throat and marked his place with the post-it note he was using as a bookmark. His hand shook slightly as he placed it on the page, but he didn't think Demyx noticed.

"Everything went well, and my goal was accomplished quickly and efficiently." Zexion informed him.

"Oh, that's good." Demyx said, and Zexion took the chance to look up at him. He sat cross-legged on the chair, his hands in his lap playing with his gloves. His head was down, watching his fingers pluck at the leather.

'Dear God,' Zexion thought, 'we're having a conversation. Demyx and I are talking, together, to one another.' And as stupid as it was, Zexion had no idea what to say next. He rarely had conversations with other members that didn't pertain directly to missions or research. And as his racing mind was reminding him currently, he was anti-social and bad in these types of situations. He was panicking, for sure. He had no idea where to go from here. So his calculating and logical brain set it, and informed him to observe the social habits of other members of the organization. Demyx had clearly been interested in the outcome of his latest mission. So he should ask Demyx about _his_ latest mission. But Zexion had already read his mission file. Demyx had gone to Atlantica, successfully completed his task, returned with time to spare, turned in his paperwork on time-

"Where did you go?"

"…Excuse me?" Zexion asked. He had been ripped out of his train of thought by Demyx's question, and his reply was, once again, completely idiotic.

"I asked where you went, on your last mission."

"I went to the Land of Dragons."

"Oh, that's nice." Demyx said. He had lifted his face, but was staring off to the side, out the window. His hands remained in constant motion. He's bored out of his mind, Zexion thought. He's so bored by my answers that his twitching hands are more amusing than me. God, I'm such a failure.

"Did you climb the mountain?"

"Mountain?"

"Yeah, the one with the snowy peak."

Of course that mountain, it's the only mountain in the Land of Dragons. What, you thought he was talking about that other nonexistent mountain? Well he wasn't you idiot, pay attention to the damn conversation and answer his questions like a person with at least a few IQ points, you're ruining your chance.

"Unfortunately I didn't have the pleasure of making it up to the peak. Most of my work was at the base of the mountain, only slightly up the slope."

"Oh…" Demyx said, mouth forming a perfect little circle. Zexion watched that mouth return to a line, bottom lip stuck out a bit in an almost-pout. Zexion had dreams about those lips. Feeling them, kissing them, tasting them. He knew that they tasted like the sea, salty and refreshing. He didn't know how he knew that, he just did. He knew that it was more than just his lips that were that way, Demyx as a whole was like the ocean. He was always moving, flowing continuously, never the same. He was unpredictable, but somehow constant, and beautiful even in furry. Zexion imagined those eyes, blue like the ocean on a cloudy day, clouded over with something more than longing, something like lust. He imagined his breath, like the fog over the bay, panting out of bruised lips. He imagined his fingers, like the froth of a wave on the shore, spread out, grabbing at the sand, grabbing at white linen sheets…

"Well, I'm gonna get going. I'll see you around, okay?"

Pulled out of his fantasy, Zexion realized he had been completely ignoring the _real_ Demyx that was sitting in front of him. That the _real_ Demyx was now standing up and leaving because Zexion had been too busy making erotic aquatic analogies to pay attention to a single conversation. He had to salvage this somehow, but as Demyx made his way to the door Zexion found he couldn't think fast enough to come up with something. So he found himself, quite against his knowledge and approval, standing up and yelling across the room at the man about to push open the door and walk out.

"Demyx, wait!" He called, and Demyx turned, a completely bewildered and slightly frightened look on his face. Confronted with that look, Zexion's mind caught up to his actions, and he realized that, now that he had Demyx's complete and total attention, he still had absolutely no idea what to say. A few moments of awkward pause later, Zexion blurted out the only thing he could think of that wasn't completely ridiculous.

"Have a nice day, Demyx."

Granted, though it wasn't _completely_ ridiculous, it was still rather stupid. Zexion felt like a fool, standing there staring at Demyx, who was holding onto the door handle and staring back at him, still completely confused. So Zexion, in his complete shame and misery, sat back down, picked up his book, opened it back up to his post-it and started reading. However, he was doing less reading and more internally freaking out and simply staring at the book, hoping to _appear_ interested so that Demyx would think he actually _was_ interested and leave. It seemed to work too, because not a minute or two later he heard the door slide open and Demyx slip out. But not before he heard Demyx say something. He wasn't quite sure if he heard right, what with the internal freaking out and all, but he was pretty sure Demyx whispered,

"You have a good day too, Zexion."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It was turning out to be the most boring day ever. It was quiet in the castle, a number of the other members away on missions. Atlantica had been a bore, completely peaceful and quiet. What use was recon in a world that had no heartless? That damn Triton with his stupid pitchfork was still swimming around, so it wasn't like Demyx could have done anything useful anyway. So he returned to a mostly empty castle, more boring then Atlantica had been, because here there was nothing but white hallways and Nobodies. At least in Atlantica he could have been talking to fish...

He dragged himself down the hallway, debating how to best waste his time. He could go play sitar, but he was currently in a slump when it came to composing music. Probably had something to do with his wholly disheartened view of life, with his true love despising him and all. He wasn't tired enough to go sleep, and he wasn't hungry enough to go make a sandwich. So headed to the Grey Area, hoping someone was there to hang out with, or that he would just get bored enough to pass out on a couch until someone showed up.

As he entered the room he spied two people. The first was Luxord, and Demyx was internally happy to see the blond man. Luxord was always a good companion to pass time with, since he rarely said no to a game of cards. Demyx was making his way over to him when he noticed the other occupant of the room, and his heart nearly stopped.

There, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Luxord, was Zexion. He was reading something, of course, eyes idly scanning the pages. His steel blue hair covered his face, bent over his book, but Demyx had no problems recalling his blue eyes, creased in concentration over the passage he was reading. Demyx reminded himself to breathe. Who cares if he's sitting there? He can't make you leave, you have as much right to be here as anyone. You can't avoid him your entire life! Just sit down and ask Luxord for a game of Go-Fish. And if he says you're going to be playing poker, refuse. For goodness sake refuse! Remember what happened last time you lost a poker game to Luxord? There's a reason you can't go to the Beast's Castle anymore, and Xemnas will be royally pissed if he has to ban you from _another_ world.

So Demyx walked over, sat down next to Luxord, and asked for a game. After losing pathetically (how could one be asked to concentrate with the love of their life sitting a few paces away?) Luxord deemed Demyx too weak an opponent for another game. He got up and left, mumbling something about his rumbling stomach and fish and chips, leaving Demyx alone with Zexion.

Completely alone…with Zexion…just the two of them…alone.

Needless to say, Demyx was scared witless.

What should he do? Leave? No, that would be completely pathetic. Besides, here was the boy he was desperately in love with, alone with him in a room. He couldn't just leave him! So…what should he do? He looked down and began fidgeting with his gloves, trying to think of something cool or suave to say. Something that would make Zexion finally _like_ him, if not in a romantic way, at least in a 'I accept your existence and find you fit for regular acknowledgement' kind of way. Something that would spark up a conversation that wouldn't end in being bludgeoned to death by the Lexicon. Something simple, something easy, something normal…

"Soooo…how'd your mission go?"

It was the first thing he managed to blurt out of his mouth. He constantly asked the other Organization members about their missions. Why would he freak out about asking Zexion? It was a simple, friendly question. So why was Zexion looking up at him with a grave almost mortified look on his face?

"Are you speaking to me?" He asked, eyebrows raised in surprise and confusion. Dear God, Demyx thought, I've made him angry. This is bad! Why did I start a conversation with him? I know he hates me, talking isn't going to change anything! He's mad, and he's going to freak out and beat me to death with a book! What a sad way to die...Just don't look at him! Maybe he won't notice you said anyth-

"Uhhh, yeah…" Demyx answered, his voice careful. Wait, he's supposed to ignore you! Just don't look at him, don't make eye contact. _Please_ don't hit me with the Lexicon! Demyx cringed when Zexion moved to mark his place in the book. Holy shit, he's going to kill me with the book then keep reading it like nothing happened! He's going to read pages stained with my blood, then laugh at how stupid I was to try to talk with him. But to Demyx's monumental surprise, Zexion placed the book next to him and spoke.

"Everything went well, and my goal was accomplished quickly and efficiently." Zexion informed him. Again, Demyx's mouth moved faster than his brain,

"Oh, that's good." He answered, still fiddling with his gloves, afraid to look up. Silence filled the space between them like a heavy blanket, suffocating Demyx. He hated awkward pauses. Besides, the conversation had so far resulted in the longest sentence Zexion had ever uttered to him, and (so far) zero deaths. He took a chance and continued.

"Where did you go?" He asked cautiously.

"…Excuse me?" Zexion said. Well, that's what the awkward pause was. It was Zexion ignoring you and thinking about something else, probably more important than your silly attempts at communication. He was so bored talking to you that he completely spaced out and doesn't even hear you when you speak. Demyx found that he was a glutton for punishment, though, and fought to continue the conversation.

"I asked where you went, on your last mission."

"I went to the Land of Dragons." Zexion told him informatively, like it was going to be an answer on a test later.

"Oh, that's nice." Demyx said lamely. That's nice? He might as well have patted Zexion on the head and exclaimed that everything was swell and they should go out to the fishing hole tomorrow for some good old fashioned fun. "Did you climb the mountain?" He asked, staring out the window. Anywhere that wasn't Zexion's eye. His hands continued to twitch nervously in his lap. No matter what he did he couldn't get them to stop, the nervous energy seemed to be flowing out of his fingers.

"Mountain?" Zexion asked quizzically.

"Yeah, the one with the snowy peak." Oh God, were there other mountains in the Land of Dragons he didn't know about? Had he been completely oblivious to complete _mountains_? Why did Zexion have to be so much smarter than everyone? Just because Demyx didn't read geography books about the Land of Dragons and its many mountains didn't mean he was an idiot!Now, besides realizing that Demyx was a complete failure at basic communication, Zexion would think he was an imbecile and tell the Superior that Demyx can't go back to the Land of Dragons because he doesn't know the terrain-

"Unfortunately I didn't have the pleasure of making it up to the peak. Most of my work was at the base of the mountain, only slightly up the slope."

"Oh…" Demyx said, calming slightly. He needed to relax. The conversation had gone pretty well so far, at least externally. Internally, Demyx was falling apart. The slight pause in conversation gave him a chance to relax and calm his nerves. Things were going good, he was having a normal conversation with Zexion, he hadn't been killed yet; everything was peachy. However, that silence continued to grow. Demyx waited for Zexion to say something, to say _anything_. He wanted the other man to show that he was interested in the conversation too. But Zexion just sat there, eyes staring into space, not speaking. The silence suddenly began to choke Demyx.

Zexion didn't really care about this conversation at all. He was just being polite, answering the questions of a fellow Organization Member. Demyx realized with dread that he was probably boring him, at best simply distracting Zexion from the book he had been quietly reading before Demyx had rudely interrupted. As the silence dragged on, Demyx's anxiety returned in full force. This had been a stupid idea. Zexion hates you, remember? One trivial conversation doesn't matter, it doesn't even interest him at all. He's bored and probably angry. Just get out while you can.

"Well, I'm gonna get going. I'll see you around, okay?" Demyx said quickly, nearly jumping out of his chair and heading for the door in a brisk walk. This was such a mistake. He should have just left when he saw Zexion in the room, maybe then he wouldn't have _completely_ embarrassed himself. The ridiculousness of the situation set in: He was completely in love with the one person who apparently couldn't stand his presence, who was so bored by him that he couldn't even pay attention to the conversation. What a masochist I am, Demyx thought, what a dim-witted, uninteresting, foolhardy, ignorant-

"Demyx, wait!"

He paused, door handle in his grip, and turned to Zexion. He was standing, a panicked look on his face. He looks terrified, Demyx though. What could Zexion possiblely be so scared about? Wait...had Zexion just called to stop him? What could he possibly want, he had made it perfectly clear he wasn't interested in talking...

Demyx waited for an answer, but Zexion just stood there, that same look of fear stamped on his features. The silence grew again, and just before Demyx thought he would explode with the tension, Zexion finally spoke.

"Have a nice day, Demyx."

It was the last thing Demyx had been expecting. He didn't quite know how to respond. As Zexion sat back down and picked up his book, Demyx moved to open the door and slip out. He felt funny. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he suddenly felt like the conversation hadn't been a complete waste after all. Maybe Zexion didn't completely despise him. Maybe things between the two of them weren't as bad as he thought. Before he walked out the door, he looked back and saw Zexion, still sitting and reading, hair covering his face as it had when Demyx came in. Zexion was beautiful, but that wasn't why Demyx loved him. He loved him because of his quiet nature, his ability to sit and think rather than rush into action. Demyx wasn't like that, he wasn't calm and composed, but he wanted to be. He wanted to know Zexion, know what made him so thoughtful, know how he could be so calm. He wanted to lie in his arms and listen to that soft calm breathing, memorize it, keep it as his secret. He wanted Zexion wholly and completely. So he smiled and whispered, "You have a good day too, Zexion."

Heading down the white hallways to his room, Demyx realized that today wasn't quite as boring as he had thought.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Its been awhile (a really really long while) since I've written anything new. So long, in fact, that a completely new account was in order. So this is the new me, PolytheneSkin, hoping that I haven't lost the ability to write a fanfic that people are willing to read without hunting me down with torches and pitchforks. Constructive criticism, or even criticism that isn't constructive, is more than welcome and is greatly appreciated! I also apologize for any mistakes, typos, misspellings, etc. I am currently my own editor, so after rereading this numerous times all the letters start to look the same. Again, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
